Louder
by XxScarletxRosexX
Summary: There comes a point in life when a female finally stops ignoring the careless rumors that spread like blazing wild fire. A giggle here… A chastening hush there… A nudge over the shoulder followed by a quick glance, then turning away... This is the beginning of every girl's nightmare. Rated T for strong language. Full summary in first chapter! R


**Link for DA: **xxscarletxrosexx.

deviantart.

com/art/Louder-364029535

**(c) Louder belongs to me****  
****(c) Soul Eater belongs to Atsushi Ōkubo  
(c) Freddie Krueger belongs to Wes Craven**

**Summary:**

_There comes a point in life when a female finally stops ignoring the careless rumors that spread like blazing wild fire. A giggle here… A chastening hush there… A nudge over the shoulder followed by a quick glance, then turning away... This is the beginning of every girl's nightmare._

Retrieving souls are one thing, but battling inner conflict such as insecurity sure is tough, for a girl that is. Upon her missions to regain 99 souls, Maka receives an anonymous note to voice their disappointment towards her. To express her frustration, Maka injures her right hand. In order to shroud her wounded pride, Maka keeps it as a secret from her friends. Will she be able to keep it hidden from being discovered?

* * *

**A/N Oh yeah, please be aware that the story is based on SYMBOLISM. If you pick up the symbolism, then you'll understand the story!**

* * *

There comes a point in life when a female finally stops ignoring the careless rumors that spread like blazing wild fire. A giggle here… A chastening hush there… A nudge over the shoulder followed by a quick glance, then turning away... This is the beginning of every girl's nightmare.

All her life, young prodigy, Maka Albarn strove to be the most powerful scythe meister as her mother had been. She studied pretentiously day in and day out, disciplining herself to burn every word, every detail into her memory. It was she who had always placed first in class besides the notorious Ox Ford. She was absolutely perfect and she knew it, but being a genius in a high class academy is different from being a gifted young child.

"Yeah that's her…"

"I heard she was…"

"No, she's totally not…"

They were audible, harsh whispers, perhaps purposely audible for the young scythe meister to hear, but as always she ignored it.

_They are meaningless statements with no concrete proof to back it up_, Maka shrugged. She made her way to the E.A.T. homeroom and towards her seat beside a grinning Soul conversing to the egocentric Black*Star.

Tsubaki, on the other hand, smiled warmly to Maka as she sat down.

"Good morning, Maka," the dark blade weapon greeted.

"Good morning, Tsubaki," Maka returned, "Ah, so did you hear about the new mission they posted at the reception area?"

"Yes, I have!" Tsubaki reported, "Are you thinking of taking it?"

Maka nodded, "Regaining 99 souls are a pain, but I'll take whatever opportunities they can offer."

Tsubaki nodded in agreement.

"Ah, would you like to come with us?"

"Sure," Tsubaki smiled, "it has been a while since we've been on a mission together."

"Alright, then I'll go ahead and take it."

"Would you like me to accompany you?" Tsubaki offered.

Maka shook her head, but was grateful for her thoughtfulness. "No, it's okay. I won't take too long, I promise." With her hands entwined behind her back, Maka made her way down the narrow stairs and out into the dwindling hallway.

"I'd like to go for this mission, please," Maka handed a miniature mirror with the mission's synopsis inscribed on the surface to the staff behind the reception counter. She was stubby, had curly, blonde hair, and had a strong look despite the forming bags beneath her sky blue eyes.

"This mission requires two teams, who will ya be teaming up with?" she asked in a polite, gruff, alto voice.

"Dark blade technician Black*Star and his partner Tsubaki Nakatsukasa," Maka replied.

With a quick, choppy manner, the receptionist's fingers glided across the keyboard to type the assignment. She paused to glance at the small mirror before wrapping it with an elastic band. A smile formed on Maka's lips when she read **TAKEN** in thick, block font on the tag of the elastic band. Every time Maka reserved a mission, she couldn't help but envision the inevitable victory that rightfully belonged to her and Soul.

"Alright, you're good to go," the receptionist expressed her approval with a large grin and a thumb up.

With a grateful thank you and a bow, Maka excused herself to return the mirror on the wall of extracurricular lessons.

Maka had barely finished hooking it back on the wall when she heard a sharp hush coming from west of her direction.

"No way! She got the best one again!" a female whined.

"Of course she would," another female stated, "she's gotta do what it takes to live up to her expectation."

_Just ignore it, Maka_, she calmly comforted herself. _Mind your own business._

"If I was Soul's partner, then he would have been a death scythe by now."

Maka instantly froze in place, her teeth grit to that comment. She was tempted to turn around and call her out, but she settled on digging her gloved nails to her palms. _Those damn girls don't know what they're talking about_, she hissed. _If they had faced Blair as I had, they would have gotten the same result. A stupid cat!_

"And she's gifted with soul perception? Puh-lease, she would have sensed her opponent was a cat the moment she laid eyes on her."

The same two girls jumped back with a shriek as they stared at the young, scythe meister. Maka glared back at them threateningly while her clenched fist remained hooked to the shuddering wall. With slow retraction, she unclenched her fist to shake off the screaming agony directed from her fluttering knuckles.

Words were not needed to imply her menacing aura for the girls scampered away, hissing at one another for their audible conversation and their fear towards the meister.

Maka straightened herself to hide the aggressive body language, but her mind remained fixated on her sour mood.

_Who do they think they are?_ she snapped. _What would students in the N.O.T. course know about an E.A.T.'s daily routine anyway?_

Throughout her foul mood, Maka's legs naturally led their host to her locker. Her hands worked out the spinning lock to retrieve a new book that she had been itching to read for months. The moment she slid the book out, a small folded note fluttered to the floor. With bewilderment, Maka bent to the floor and picked it up.

"Who would put this here?" she wondered. For a moment, a flash of epiphany struck her and Maka responded with a large grin on her lips. _In your face Soul!_ she happily exclaimed inwardly. The thought of a secret admirer both excited and flattered Maka, especially with this note being the first she ever received. With eager fingers, she unraveled the small parcel and read the message with quick, scanning eyes. But as she read on, her smile faltered, her zooming eyes slowed down to the point that they stuck to each word as if they were glue. When she finished, she held the paper to her side while her head hung forward. She bit her lips to forestall her impulsive behavior. She was seething with rage, her body shuddered in response. Her throat tightened as she forced back the temptation to scream her accusations. Instead of brashly acting on to the contempt note in her usual vehement distaste, burning, hot liquid blurred her vision before diving into the marble floor.

She grit her teeth with more pressure, loathing herself for allowing such pathetic reaction to take place. She crumpled the bland note in a fist followed by slamming it into the back of the locker. With rage fueling her behavior, she pulled back and thrust once more, bending the iron material with a thunderous cry. Her agonized hand begged for mercy, but Maka paid no heed. With labor breaths, Maka leaned on her injured hand to intensify the pain. She deserved it. She needed it to remind her of her place, and that _place_ has no room for weakness.

For the second time that morning, Maka pulled back her injured hand and closed her locker, along with its evidence thrust at the back. With a new glove in her other hand—thank goodness she kept extras in her locker—Maka made her way to the infirmary.

Upon her arrival, she was immediately greeted by a chocolate skinned woman mummified in fresh, clean gauzes from head to toe, save for her cyan eyes.

"Maka!" she greeted, "Is there anything I can do for you?" Nygus immediately noted the blooming specks of blood on her right gloved hand before Maka could utter a single word. "Oh, what happened here?"

"I-I j-just hurt myself this morning," Maka lied, although it was partially true.

"How so?" the blade weapon inquired with genuine concern as she led her in. Maka was escorted to a green revolving chair that awfully resembled the same transportation furniture that Stein rode during idling hours at school and at the comfort of his own home.

"I'd rather not talk bout it," Maka hung her head forward, shrouding her eyes within the curtain of her blond hair from view. After her tantrum episode, Maka's face flushed red whenever she recalled the memory.

Nygus nodded quietly, respecting Maka's answer. She worked on removing Maka's glove with careful, strict attention to prevent further irritation from her present, bloody hand.

"It doesn't look that bad," Nygus diagnosed, "Just a little clean up and ice will do." Maka nodded, fully aware that this would be the result for her behavior. On the bright side, at least she didn't have any broken bones. Thanks to her training within the institute, the bones of her fingers had grown stronger against any solid objects.

Nygus made her way to the perfectly symmetrical shelves—organized by Kid, no doubt—to pull out several cotton balls, bandages, white gauze similar to her attire, and disinfection spray. She made her way back to another black revolving chair and set the materials on the mahogany desk beside her. Nygus replaced the bottle cap with a fluffy cotton ball followed by flipping the bottle with a flick of her wrist. She gestured for Maka's bare right hand and Maka obediently surrendered it.

"This'll sting for a bit." Although the warning wasn't needed, it was standard procedures to inform an injured patient of the stinging pain. Maka nodded, bracing herself for the tingling sensation, but her mind was too occupied with gaffe thoughts. If Nygus had applied disinfection without warning, would that make her a failure as the school nurse? Is that how N.O.T. students viewed an E.A.T. student—specifically she—as a failure to maintain her obligation and requirements? Did it really take one mistake and earn the entitlement as a pathetic lowly meister?

"All done," Nygus announced.

Maka was surprised that her deep thought caused her to zone out from the healing procedures. It had been finished faster than she recalled.

"Thanks," she paused to contemplate her current position before asking, "is it okay that you don't tell anyone about this?"

"If you take it easy, then there's no need to state anything," Nygus replied.

"Thanks again," Maka thanked before slipping out of the infirmary. She pulled her fresh, clean glove from her pocket and slowly slid it on to her carefully wrapped fingers without furthering inflammation on the bruised swell. She then held the bloody glove in her left hand as she made her way back to her locker.

Once there, she opened the metal frame with disdain and resentment, knowing that the letter was on the other side of the thin, iron wall. With a flick of her wrist, Maka tossed the worn material on top of the note before closing her locker with a little more force than she intended.

"Hey."

"WAAAHH!" Maka shrieked with astonishment. _When did he get here?_ "S-Soul… what are you doing here?" Maka asked.

"You were taking too long, so I came to get you. 'Sides it's not like you to skip the morning session," the albino replied in a casual monotone.

"I took that long?" Maka exclaimed, "You wrote notes for me, right?"

"What do you take me for? Your pager?" Soul responded. "Cool guys don't write boring lecture notes. We leave that to the nerds."

"Who are you calling a nerd?" Maka deadpanned menacingly.

"Chill, Maka, Tsubaki did it for you," Soul raised his hands in front of him in a defensive manner, "C'mon let's go." Soul habitually grabbed Maka's closest hand and dragged her behind him, unaware that it was injured.

With her teeth clenched to hold back the pained screech, Maka swatted his hand away with her left hand. Soul blinked at her with bewilderment and a trace of hurt etched in his expression for her sudden action.

"I-I can go myself," Maka stated sternly. She felt guilty about her reaction, but Maka didn't want Soul to worry about her injured hand, let alone the reason for her aggravated, peculiar behavior. "Sorry…" she avoided his eyes to gaze at her feet guiltily.

"Alright then," Soul shoved his hands in his pockets before walking in his usual slouched manner, "Let's go."

"Yeah." Maka followed behind Soul with silence accompanying them back to their home room.

* * *

"What's with these kishin eggs showing up in Big Ben?" Black*Star complained.

"It's London, you dimwit," Maka corrected with a frustrated sigh, "Big Ben is the name of the clock tower here."

"O-of course I knew that!" Black*Star stammered, recollecting himself from his obvious mistake, "I was just testing your knowledge." He ended his prideful speech with a loud, throaty laughter.

Tsubaki stood beside her barely clothed meister—who argued that the chilly weather's couldn't affect his godly authority—with a sweat drop sliding down her awkward face. "Uh, Black*Star, I believe it's best that we don't attract attention to ourselves while we're here."

"Hah! As if I'm afraid of some murderer," Black*Star snorted haughtily. "That's right! You heard me! If you bastards come out now, then your god will have mercy and end your life quick!"

With an irritated sigh, Maka closed her book and quickly smashed it into Black*Star's head, leaving a deep, block imprint in his skull, smoke emanated in its aftermath.

"Just shut up already," Maka hissed as her left gloved hand poised on her hip, the book minutes ago vanished—how it magically appears and disappears, still baffles the teammates with curiosity.

Over the course of the evening, Maka's right hand reduced from fluttering beats to a bearable pace. Because Maka had been accompanied by her friends majority of the time, Maka had not been able to ice her hand, thus leaving her to depend on her less experienced left hand. Assignments and lectures in class tortured her with the use of her right hand, but when her partner had turned away from her, she transferred her pencil to her other hand.

"Hey," Soul lolled his attention towards his scythe meister with dull interest.

Even though Soul hardly revealed any emotion when he spoke to her—other than music related subjects—Maka flinched from fearing his discovery. To hide her frazzled state, she sighed with irritation reflexively, "What Soul? If it's not important-"

Black*Star locked his narrowed eyes on his weapon's before turning them to Maka with a smug grin. "Sounds like they got the message."

Maka glared back at him, biting back the urge to snap at his egocentric personality, but she also wanted the mission to be completed as soon as possible. She was nervous, questioning if she could handle the fight with her dominant hand down. Nevertheless, an exchange of eye contacts, Soul transformed into his scythe form and approached Maka's right out of habit. Maka reached forward and spun the shaft in return. It wasn't long until her hand began to hum, causing her to spin it over to her left hand and plunging the shaft to the ground. The action didn't pass unnoticed by her partner, but he refrained from asking.

"Ready?" she asked her two comrades.

Black*Star nodded, with Tsubaki's face reflection from her sickle blade form.

Amongst the sleeping city, a dark silhouette approached them in rocket speed. Maka expected nothing less from her opponent; requiring a two to one ratio of their battle told her that their foe was powerful. However, the figure of the guy reminded her nothing more but any other evil human beings she had faced in the past. This discouraged and dwindled Maka's prospect, but she could be wrong, she hoped.

"That's our guy," Maka announced to her teammates.

Soul scrunched his teeth together with anticipation, but to show courtesy to his blade weapon comrade, he resisted the urge to drool.

As soon as their target spotted the two children armed with weapons he stopped before them underneath a dim-lit street lamp. A sharp intake of breath came from the group; recognition flooded their eyes as they identified their opponent. Maka herself was surprised by how gruesome the monster appeared despite studying him in her school library. Unfortunately, his picture was not provided, leaving it for her imagination to sketch out the appalling details: red and green striped long sleeve shirt, loose trousers, and worn out working boots. He wore a brown fedora hat over the scalded flesh of what was left of his physical body. But the most noticeable of his appearance was the silver glint of the moon's light bouncing off a pair of five, thin, long, sharp blades from where his hands should be to his knee cap; that alone gave his identity.

"Huh," Black*Star huffed assertively, breaking Maka from a fearful fixated trance on the defiled human before them, "the bastard of 100 maniacs, we finally meet."

"So this is the guy who appears in children's dreams and kills them," Soul added with mouthwatering excitement. He slurped back a trail of drool hanging from the corner edge of his mouth.

Maka tightened her grip on the silver staff to shroud her anxiety with impatience. "Freddie Krueger, your serial murdering days come to and here. Your soul is mine!" Maka declared with commanding authority. With a dash, she approached him with the scythe ready to slice his torso in half.

He was fast. He met the blade with one set of claws, sparks derived from the sharp contact. His free hand advanced for the kill while her only weapon was locked in defense. Maka tumbled to the side with only a slight tear on the tail of her black blazer.

"Children…" his voice was airy and menacing, enough for a shiver to slither down their spine, "isn't it past your bedtime?"

"Sleep is for the weak," Black*Star scoffed as he charged at him with Tsubaki transformed in enchanted sword mode, "But I'll be glad to send you off on a one way ticket to Cloud 9 in the next realm!" With a battle cry, he slashed at the creature with blinding speed, causing him to cross his blades and retreating backwards in defense.

"Black*Star…" Tsubaki warned critically. Although she was conscious that her meister had grown tremendously from his mental training to control the uncanny sword, however she feared that the sword would pull a toll on his physical health.

"Don't worry, Tsubaki, this will only take ten seconds," he snorted whilst slashing at the retreating creature. Although he had reassured her, Black*Star was aware that his attacks were leading them nowhere as long as his opponent remained lock on defensive mode. "Tsubaki," he commanded.

"Right." Black*Star's shadow slithered from the ground like a snake as it raced towards the unrelenting Freddie Krueger. The dark serpent dispersed into quadruple thin ropes that latched themselves on its victim. Two held his feet to the ground while the other pair forced his arms apart fro the final blow.

"He got him!" Maka whispered breathlessly, her eyes transfixed by Black*Star's accelerating abilities.

"This is the end! You're mine!" with a cry, Black*Star jumped midair with his sword raised to slide down the middle for a clean cut. "What the-" instead of following through his action, Black*Star curled into a ball to flip over the creature's head, landing on his feet in a crouched position. With the enchanted mode still activated, a similar black rope wrapped itself around Black*Star's throat, resulting with the ninja to struggle voicing out his release. Sensing her meister's danger, Tsubaki immediately returned to her sickle blades as Black*Star heaved immense breaths of air.

"Black*Star!" Tsubaki screeched with concern.

"Shit. What was that thing?" he croaked.

With a loud clang from behind, Black*Star saw his comrade raising her staff in the air defensively. However, her opponent wasn't Freddie Krueger but a young small child with a large kitchen knife!

"What the hell is that brat doing?!" Black*Star exclaimed.

"They're being controlled," Maka grunted as she blocked another swing. "We can't hurt them."

"Maka," Soul interjected with alarming discovery, "they're dead. Could they be the souls he digested?"

"You're right, they're not breathing." _**Clang**_. "Even though," another grunt, "these shouldn't—huh—be killed our own…" Maka plunged the staff to the ground as leverage to jump over the child. Once behind, she crouched to the ground and kicked her leg forward to collide with the child's legs. "…weapon. It's not right."

It was not long before a group of sluggish steps filled the silent night. They stood there, surrounding the two meisters, forming a circle with the dim light as its restriction. Black*Star strained his eyes to recognize the enemies only to result with a hissing curse. They were children, all the victims of the forming kishin, armed with dangerous kitchen ware products and sharp gardening utensils.

"That bastard," Black*Star hissed venomously, "framing us for his dirty work."

"He's escaping!" Soul hollered as Freddie Krueger sped away to the opposite direction.

"It's a decoy. The children were merely a diversion in order to make his escape," Maka growled with frustration.

"Then go after him, Maka!" Black*Star urged.

"But Black*Star," Maka protested with concern.

"**Don't defy your god!**" Black*Star argued, "**Now get your ass over there and kill that thing before it becomes a god damn kishin!**"

With a nod, Maka dashed towards the crowd of children with Soul held firmly in her grasp. Despite the tingling sensation from her right hand, Maka tightened her grip on the shaft before plunging it to the ground like a pole vault. With her speed, she flew over the children with ease, landing on the balls of her feet with a dainty thud. She exhaled a quick puff of smoke from the frigid air before continuing her pursuit of the demonic being.

With her strong endurance and burning passion to complete the quest as her motivation, Maka caught up to the defiled human being without breaking a sweat. With her left hand clutching the shaft for support, her right hand guided the blade into a figure six cut. Freddie dodged the close attack with high jump. He landed expertly on the flat surface of the zigzagged blade, but he didn't stop there.

"What the-?! Oof." Too late to dodge the attack, Maka was flung back into the rocky asphalt while Soul clattered to the ground on the opposite road. "Damn," she hissed frustrated. With Soul on the other side and she injured as well as weaponless, she was left as a vulnerable target. "Damn it," she cursed once more. She hated herself for being weak at a crucial time like this. Maka's right hand throbbed intensely, almost as if it was screaming, "**Weak! Weak! Weak! Weak! Weak**!" with every pulse.

"Maka!" a deep, hoarse cry grasped for her attention.

In that instance, Maka was yanked upward by her throat and brought face to face with the charred skin. Maka's hands gripped on to the vessel skin involuntarily. When it came to strangling, Maka always wished that she didn't wear gloves to prevent digging her nails into their skin. Ironically, they were saving her from feeling his raw, exposed skin. Although his body was burned years ago, the smell of burning flesh still emitted from his raw skin. With a dry inward chuckle, Maka laughed at the thought of dying in two ways: suffocation from the smell or by the firm grip he had around her small neck.

"You bastard," Soul snarled acidly, "take your dirty hands off my meister."

Maka wriggled and kicked to break free, but it was no use, she was only going to lose more air by these futile actions.

"How pathetic." Maka winced at the chilly, ominous voice directed to her. With one eye opened to stay conscious, she stared at the pair of dark iris probing for her soul. The feeling unnerved her, shaking her to the very core. "Depending on others to save you when you're in a pinch? That's disappointing." With a strong force, Maka was flung towards her hastening weapon.

"Maka!" Soul exclaimed with concern.

Maka coughed as oxygen burned down her throat to revive her heaving lungs.

"Damn bastard," Soul hissed.

"Change back," Maka croaked in between her gasps.

"Maka-"

"Just change back!" she barked commandingly.

Without further protest, Soul returned into his scythe form and landed in Maka's awaiting hands. The eye from the staff quickly noticed Maka's blood spotted stain from her right glove. "Your hand…" he indicated. He felt his meister flinch from his perception.

"Don't worry about it," she hissed.

"Why didn't you tell me? Was it injured since this morning?"

"It's none of your concern, Soul. Let's just take his soul and get this over with!" Maka sprinted towards the defiled human with agitation and irritation motivating her hastiness.

"Maka! Wait!"

Again, she missed her target. Freddie Krueger had dodged the attack with a jump followed by a claw at Maka's back. She cried out from the contact, but continued to distance herself from the man before collapsing forward, consuming oxygen with labored breaths and hissing out a trail of hot mist.

_Damn it all_, Maka growled. _Why am I losing?_ Her injuries were nothing compared to facing Free. She was beaten to a pulp and still came out victorious despite Soul's and her disrupted soul wavelength. _How did I win?_ she wondered, _was it pure luck?_ The memory was not long ago, but it felt like decades since she first encountered him. She craned her neck to observe her surroundings, coincidentally finding them on the same bridge they had battled just months ago. _Ironic_. Then she turned to her partner, the red eye narrowed into hers, observing her action with… disappointment? _No… _Maka shook her head from imagining such contempt emotions ever being connected to Soul, but why was she thinking about it in the first place?

Because they were connected through soul resonance, Soul felt his meisters jumbled, mixed emotions. He felt her frustration, distraught, and rage growing higher than the empire state building. Amongst her fury, he felt an emotion being suppressed, squeezed together by the three loud, overwhelming emotions. He probed further with caution, hoping not to alarm his meister with his curious antics. When he finally grasped the emotion, he frowned. He wasn't disappointed that Maka would go so far as to hide it, but at the fact that she remained so _closed_ towards him. They had already established that they wanted to be a strong team for both their sake, but why was she always so secretive when it came to her flaws? It wasn't that big of a deal anyways, it's inevitable to be perfect because they were human.

"Confidence, Maka," Soul muttered.

Maka stared into the large red eyes at the top of her scythe. _Confidence._ Yes, of course, it was her confidence that had defeated Free on this very bridge. How could she ever forget that important sensation? It was confidence that fueled her to be courageous and act upon dangerous situations. Although her right hand continued to throb, Maka ignored the pain as she stood up with the scythe supporting her.

"You should have stayed down and surrendered to an everlasting dream," Freddie Krueger stated piteously, "I even considered ending your life quickly and painlessly."

"Heh, not a chance," Maka smirked, her goal revived.

Angered by her superiority, the creature raced towards the duo at lightning speed. Maka prepared herself for defense when the creature was encircled by a long train of looped chains. The action resulted with a face plant on the slick asphalt.

"**Yahoo**!"

"Black*Star!" Maka exclaimed.

"About time you showed up," Soul grinned.

"Of course! You can't have a party without me around!" he announced in a deep, long cackle. "Don't just stand there, Maka! Finish him!"

"Right," Maka craned her attention to the eye on her staff which narrowed in approval. "**Let's go! Soul Resonance!**" There was a small glitch of spark that connected the two separated souls followed by another static link and another, this continued until the two souls were magnetized together as one. A battle cry emanated from the duo as immense power flooded through their veins, heightening their baffling mixed strength. Soul's blade shattered into a large, half moon curve of radiating, colorful static. "This is the end!" With the staff raised upward, Maka swung it down, cutting the creature across the torso. With a gasp, his whole body was enveloped in a dark tornado of reeling black ribbons before exposing its true form, a bright, glowing, floating red soul.

After a quick exchange with the dark blade weapon and a nod, Black*Star waived off the soul nonchalantly, "Take it. Consider this as a gift from your wonderful god."

"Don't mind if I do." Soul eagerly slurped back the drool before opening his razor, sharp mouth. He held the soul by the tip of the wispy tail before dropping it into his mouth watering jaw. With a loud chomp, he sealed its exit, chewed greedily on the scrumptious snack, and swallowed it. He released a satisfied sigh followed by clapping his hands together in a grateful gesture, "Thank you for a good meal."

"Of course it should be! It was a gift from your god! My presence made it all the more delicious!" the young ninja boasted.

"Oh, Black*Star," Tsubaki chuckled awkwardly.

"Wait, what about the children?" Maka gasped.

"Don't worry, I took care of them," Black*Star grinned.

"What he means is," Tsubaki quickly interjected, to calm a panicked Maka, "he used his soul wavelength to shock them. They didn't get up after that."

"They just couldn't handle my godly powers," Black*Star snorted.

"But don't think that it was too easy, Black*Star?" Tsubaki inquired.

"Well," Black*Star paused to scratch his chin with an index finger, "Now that you brought it up, they didn't put up much of a fight. I didn't think Freddie Krueger could control their bodies."

"He can't," Soul affirmed, "None of the rumors or stories ever mentioned him about controlling the victims he killed."

"Not even in books," Maka agreed, "it must have been a witch."

The moment the accusation left Maka's lips, the atmosphere surrounding the team thickened. Black*Star's body hunched into a crouched position, ready to attack if a witch decided to strike. Soul and Tsubaki also scanned the sighting for any signs of the witch, leaving Maka to search for any signs of the witch's presence with her soul perception. "She must've escaped with her soul protect activated."

"Damn. So she must've been the one controlling the children. That sick bastard," Black*Star growled.

"I would have sensed her then," Maka clenched her teeth in frustration while her hands balled into tight fists. "Damn it! Why didn't I sense her?"

"It's not your fault, Maka."

"Shut up Soul-"

"That wasn't the objective of this mission, was it?" Soul interrupted sharply.

"That's right," Tsubaki added, "it was only to retrieve Freddie Krueger's soul. Therefore, we have already accomplished our assignment."

Maka stared at her friends dumbfounded. It was only until a hard slap on her injured back did she come back to her senses.

"Yeah, don't sweat it, Maka! We did what we had to do."

Maka grit her teeth as a small hiss escaped her lips, "Black*Star… my back!"

"Oh!" Black*Star then noticed the five bloody cuts on her back, "Damn, that bastard got you good."

On impulse, Maka raised her right hand and prepared to smack it on Black*Star's cranium, but before she could impact it on the ninja's head, Soul's hand held Maka's wrist in a firm grip. Maka looked at him surprised, but was grateful for his interruption.

"C'mon, let's get out of here. It's not cool to die from hypothermia." With one arm wrapped around his meister's waist and the other, holding her arm around his neck, he guided his meister off the highway.

"This stupid weather can't kill me!" Black*Star boasted. A moment later, something hard flew straight into Black*Star's face. "Where the hell do you get these books from anyway?!"

Tsubaki scurried beside her meister with Maka's book gathered under her left arm. She offered a kind smile as she stated, "Shall we go?"

With child like interest, he gazed into Tsubaki's eyes before flickering away, replaced with an elusive expression. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming."

"How's your back?" Soul asked as he guided her to her bedroom.

"I'm fine, Soul. Nygus said that I should take a week off to heal. So, take good notes for me, okay!" Maka chirped despite the stinging sensation from her back.

Soul's eyes then traveled to her injured hand that now wore fresh, clean gauze. "What about your hand?"

Instinctively, Maka cradled her right hand with her left before hugging it towards her chest. "The wounds just reopened due to activity exposure. It's not that bad. Just some ice and bandages should do the trick."

Soul continued to stare at her with curiosity, but towards his meister, they were an unreadable blank expression. His eyes continued to stare at her injured hand, questioning its appearance.

"I fell," Maka lied, "I landed with my right hand and scraped my knuckles." To add effect, she balled her left hand and gently punched the left side of her head while muttering, "Stupid me." Maka knew he didn't buy her story one bit, but Soul didn't press her for the real story. He just eyed her hand for several uncomfortable moments in silence.

"Hey Maka…" Perhaps she stood corrected.

"Yeah?" she asked with an innocent smile plastered on her face. He stepped closer to her followed by shoving both his hands in his pockets. His mouth opened, but he quickly closed it. Maka was ready to ask him of his intentions, but was immediately cut off when she felt something soft and warm gently touch her forehead. Maka stood dazed by the action, slowly progressing what had just taken place. A minute later, her face flushed bright red, her arms flapped in a spasmodic manner, Maka screeched, "W-w-what are you doing?!"

Soul had already turned away, hiding the fact that he was embarrassed and surprised by his bold actions. "S-shut up," he stammered. He paused to control his erratic beating heart from exploding from inside his chest. Once he maintained enough composure over the looming silence, he continued, "Just get some rest tonight. I'll write your stupid notes in class tomorrow."

"Tonight's dinner," Maka stated, stopping Soul with his hand set on the door knob, "it's my turn, isn't it?"

"Don't worry about it, Maka. Just leave it to me." With a soft click, Maka was left alone in her bedroom, left to contemplate about the course of events.

Soul stood on the other side of the door with a hand glued to his forehead in frustration. He had no idea where or how or why he decided to kiss Maka. His feelings toward his meister was nothing more but pure admiration. Maka was a strong, independent, and resilient young woman, truly a remarkable prodigy that Death Weapon Meister Academy has ever known. It still baffled him to see Maka so out of composure against Freddie Krueger... no... even before that... Whatever it was must've happened during the morning session. He was aware that Maka had lied to him about her hand, but he trusted her so much that he knew that she would tell him in the future when she was ready. The fear he witnessed in battle revolved around weakness—what triggered it, he'll never know for sure. But he was glad that Maka was able to piece herself back together in time, and return safely, well mostly.

Soul trudged to the fridge, located on the opposite side of Maka's pink bedroom door. His eyes scanned the frame of the fridge before opening it. There a purple note captured his attention along with three words scribbled in neat, cursive penmanship: _Action speaks louder_. Soul read the words several more times, slowly digesting the words into his dazed mind. He searched for any sign of Blair, but quickly excused it when he glanced at the clock. He thought about his action as he dug into the fridge for left over lasagna, hoping to find a connection between the words and turn of events as if they were a simple equation of adding one plus one. It was not until he back pedaled from the fridge and slammed his head on the plastic roof did he gain an epiphany out of this. A small smirk made its way to Soul's lips as he finally grasped a reason for his behavior.

Perhaps he doesn't need to ask Blair after all.

* * *

**I got too carried away with Black*Star's vernacular... so I put a strong language warning before you read!**

**Anyways, this is my belated birthday present for the ever so wonderful, lovapples! I hope you like it! I'm sorry for taking so long to write it for you!**

**I'll be completely honest here, I re-wrote the story 5 times before I stuck with this one. First was about how to make her problematic, then considering them on a plane (too much detail so I scratched it off), and then finding a "monster". I just stuck with this guy, cuz I don't know any scary stories in London... frankly I'm too chicken to hear it. **

**Anyways I hope you enjoyed it! :D**


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